


When Two Kings Rule

by grumblebee



Series: A king, A trophy, A lover [2]
Category: Turn - Fandom
Genre: Discipline, George gets jealous, Hand Job, M/M, Spanking, Teasing, bratty Ben, pain endurance, spoils of war verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 00:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10425276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee/pseuds/grumblebee
Summary: King Washington is appalled to hear that his husband, King Benjamin, has overstepped his boundaries with a new decree. His only option is to deal with his bratty husband's newfound bravado.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wellreadfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellreadfan/gifts).



“Your Excellency, it seems King Benjamin has signed off already.”

Washington quirked his brow, uncrossing his legs out of their comfy position on his throne. A kinder man would pity the poor squire trembling before him, clutching the royal decree his little husband had taken liberty of signing. 

“My husband, King Benjamin, signed for forces to be withdrawn from North Post.” He said slowly. “And you did not think to alert me?” The squire cast his gaze towards the floor, shaking his head.

“H-he is also  _ King _ , Your Grace. I must obey.” The squire said, stammering out a few more apologies as Washington tapped his ring impatiently against the gilded side of his throne. This posed a bit of a dilemma. Ben’s decree was, in fact, the  _ right _ call; but Washington was a proud man. A  _ military  _ man. And he did not like his subjects taking the word of a scholarly monk over his own orders. 

“I shall have to discuss this with King Benjamin.  _ Do not  _ test me like this again.” He growled, shooing the squire off like a big, all too glad to watch him skitter away. It looked as though a visit to Benjamin would be in order. 

* * *

Washington sent word for Ben to meet him in their chambers, not caring that the summons would cut into his husband’s studies in the library. Instead he took a seat in a chair by the window, contemplating how to broach the subject. His relationship with Ben had only recently blossomed, his willingness to confide in Ben growing as they spent nights tangled in each other's arms. But this struck some nerve in him. Some deep rooted disdain of being spoken over. 

“George?”

Washington looked up, his eyes falling on Ben as he entered their chambers.  _ Angelic. _ It was shameful how easily his will was bent by the presence of his husband. Fair and bright, with soft curls and sparkling eyes, Ben was born in the blue and gold Washington held so dear. Swathed in sky blue silk, and piped with gold buttons, he was a perfect doll, with only a lock out of place--most likely from hunching over some dusty tome. Washington cleared his throat, recovering from his wavering temper. 

“Benjamin, it has come to my attention that you approved the withdrawal of troops from the North Post.” He said slowly. He studied Ben’s face, looking for some sign. Rebellion. Contempt. Anything that gave away Ben’s reason for signing the order. 

Ben only blinked, stepping closer to Washington. “Yes...just like we agreed upon last night. Did I misunderstand?” He asked, eyes wide. Washington felt his gut clench, temper waning as he looked upon Ben. 

“No, you were correct.” He said, watching the worry melt from Ben’s features. “But I have to say, I feel rather slighted.” The worry returned to Ben’s brow. How sweet Ben looked when wrought with worry, though Washington would prefer to see him unwound and writhing. Something, actually, that could be easily arranged. 

“Slighted?”

Washington couldn't help but notice Ben shift nervously on his feet, and so he sweetened his tone. “A little annoyed that my husband is so capable that this kingdom does not need the expertise of an old soldier.” He said wryly. Ben’s eyes lit up.  _ He caught the jist. Beautiful boy.  _

“I  _ see.”  _ Ben smiled, edging closer to the seat Washington placed himself in. “Well...how bad would  _ that be?” _ Washington furrowed his brow as Ben skirted around him like a vulture. “I  _ am _ younger. Smarter, if you don't mind me saying.”

“Oh, I mind very much.”

Ben hummed, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. They glinted in the sunlight, and Ben took his time toying with them with the pads of his fingers. Washington licked his lips. “You're being awfully cocky about your decision.” He said. “We come to one agreement and you think you know how to command an army.” 

Ben popped open the top most button of his jacket, teasing Washington with a glimpse of the cream colored tunic underneath. “No. I can  _ command _ that army.” He said, working the next one open with a  _ pop.  _ “And that eats you up.” 

Heat coiled in Washington's belly. “Don't test me, Benjamin. I don't take kindly to being mocked.” He said coyly. Ben smiled, his jacket almost undone.

“And what would you do about it, old man?”

The flame in Washington's belly seared. 

“Strip. Now.”

Ben moved to shrug off his jacket, only to be stopped by a small gesture from his husband. “No need. Just your bottoms.” Washington said, a smirk on his lips. “Take them off slowly.” 

It was always a joy to watch Ben strip. They way his hands trembled with excitement as he undid his bottoms. The glimpse small strip of soft, blonde hair traipsing from his navel down to where the tunic was pulled free. Watching as the silk of his leggings were pulled down, creamy thighs and pink knees drawing Washington's eyes up and down the length of Ben’s body. It was delicious.

Ben kicked the discarded bottoms aside, tugging the hem of his tunic down over his nakedness. Washington clicked his tongue. “Come now, don't tell me you're  _ shy. _ Not after that little speech.” He teased. Ben pouted, opting to still twist at the edge of his tunic while he awaited Washington's punishment. 

“What to do with you.” Washington said, contemplating aloud. “What to do with a boy who thinks he can play at war?” He drank in the sight of Ben, noting the pink flush on his cheeks and the telltale tent his nervous hands were trying to hide. A smirk crept across Washington's lips.

“I think I know how to deal with this.” 

It took a minute to rearrange himself in the chair, planting his feet firmly on the stone floor, and straightening his back so that he sat strong and steady. With one hand he tapped his knee, silently beckoning Ben to drape himself across it. To his delight, Ben did. With a little less grace, Ben bent himself over Washington's lap, his fingertips barely grazing the floor. 

“My, my. Isn't this a sight.” Washington said, flipping up the hem of Ben’s tunic. He cupped one of the cheeks, giving a teasing squeeze and tug apart, eliciting a small whimper from Ben. “A boy king posing as a general.” Washington traced a finger along the sensitive crease between Ben’s cheek and thigh, following the curve to press up and tease Ben’s hole. “A very naughty boy playing with fire.” 

Ben squirmed in his lap, his cock twitching against his thigh--trapped. Washington chuckled to himself, continuing his little taste of pleasure before the pain he would inflict.

“I've been a General since I was twenty two years old. I'm now a man of forty five. Tell me then, does twenty three strikes do the trick?” He waited for a reply, receiving only soft eager whimpers from Ben, his breath coming in hot puffs against his leg. 

“Then again,” he said, pinching Ben’s ass firmly “I have been in the military since I was  _ twelve. _ ” Ben groaned, a sound Washington knew as his husband’s disgust with how young Washington had begun to fight. “Forty five, minus twelve is…”

“Thirty three.” 

Washington let that sink in. “Thirty three strikes. I don't envy your position, Benjamin. I may be old, but my arm is quite strong. My last strike will sting just as hard as my first.”

“You lie” Ben spat, lifting his head slightly, so as not to protest into Washington's thigh. “Your hand will give out before twenty.” Washington raised a brow, his hand following suit. 

“And you, dear boy, won't make it to fifteen.” 

The first slap connected so hard that it echoed back off the chamber walls, sending a sharp sting up his arm. Ben cried out, his legs twisting. Washington followed through on his second strike, this one just as loud as the last, eliciting an identical moan from his husband.

“Would you look at that…” Washington cooed, removing his hand to see the faint pink outline of a handprint rising across Ben’s left ass cheek. “You bruise like a peach.” He stroked Ben’s ass, teasing the possibility of another strike. Ben lifted his head once more.

“Resting after two strikes? I was right in assuming you can't comman--  _ AH”  _ he cried, clipped off by the hard strike of Washington’s palm across both cheeks. There came a fourth, then a fifth, sixth, and seventh in rapid succession. Washington could hear Ben choke back tears, and feel his trapped cock throb against his lap. 

“You were saying, darling?” Washington asked, returning to his teasing touches. He loved this part the most. The anticipation, baiting Ben with soft sensual touches, only to come down with a hard crack across his already red bottom. It was a little game of carrot and stick Ben knew how to endure well. And oh how Washington enjoyed it.

“Only seven, and you're red as a beet. I hate that you've made me mar this lovely ass of yours.” Washington teased. “But I love that I’ll watch you sit crooked for a week.” 

The teasing was doing its job, as Ben had begun to rub rhythmically in Washington's lap. His legs splayed, toes struggling for a foothold, Ben ground desperately up against Washington, looking for some relief. Washington watched as his hips rolled, red ass rising and falling as Ben dry humped him. Slipping a hand between their two bodies, he could feel the beading tip of Ben’s cock dragging across his lap. 

“ _ Dirty boy _ . You're  _ enjoying  _ this.” He scolded, smacking Ben’s flank roughly. Ben gasped, his hips picking up pace, chasing some climax just out of reach. Washington lay his palm on the small of Ben’s back rubbing soothing circles as the boy jerked against him. He bent over him, observing the rhythmic push and pull of his hips, the way he groaned into each thrust.

“I want you to remember something.” Washington whispered down at him. “This is  _ my _ kingdom. These are  _ my  _ men. And any decrees on where they mount their flags come from  _ my  _ lips.” His hand squeezed back between Ben and himself, pushing Ben up to sit on his lap. Ben leaned back against Washington, eyes screwed shut as his cock was stroked. 

“And  _ you,  _ my darling, are  _ mine _ to play with.” Washington growled. 

He stroked Ben roughly, loosening his grip every so often to coax Ben into chasing his touch. From his perch on Washington's lap, Ben bounced and twisted, his ass too tender to bear his full weight. He lifted himself repeatedly, rocking on his heels before being pulled back down onto Washington’s lap, landing square on the sore ass he had deserved. Washington let out a small  _ tsk tsk _ , securing Ben to him with a strong arm around his waist. 

Staccato cries filled the room, Ben now whining mercilessly as Washington pumped his cock. He was close.  _ Very close.  _ The rising pitch of his moans and the flush creeping down Ben’s chest was all the cue Washington needed. Just a little more to push his lovely husband over the edge. He pressed his lips behind Ben’s ear, pausing to nibble at it moment before speaking.

“And the best part…” he sighed, twisting his fist over the head of Ben’s cock, his palm slick with precome. “...is that you only got to  _ eight.”  _

Ben’s mouth went slack in a silent cry, his body twisting in Washington's lap as he came in ribbons over his stomach. Washington slowed his strokes, smiling as Ben’s cock softened and twitched in his fist. It was a moment before Ben could open his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Washington kissed the top of his head, burying his face in his golden locks. It still smelled of jasmine. Ben hummed happily. 

“You made the right call, Benjamin.” He whispered, kissing behind his ear. “I'm proud of you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated for wellreadfan, who is a wonderful person, and a blessing to all fanfic writers.
> 
> More spoils of war and benwash can be found on my tumblr @grumblebee-trilogy. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


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